Darkness Rising
by FallenAngelitz
Summary: Sequel to TSBVL. After Dumbledore's death, Prof. McGonagall finds a mysterious note. The Golden Trio are sent away, but Harry has other plans. On a mission for the gods, Nico uncovers a dangerous plot that will change the fate of the world. Summary inside
1. Chapter 1: The Last Request

_Full Summary_: Sequel to TSBVL. After Dumbledore's death, Professor McGonagall finds a note with instructions after his demise. The Golden Trio are sent away 'for their safety,' though Harry Potter has other plans. Nico di Angelo is on a mission for the gods, running deeper and deeper into danger by each passing second, uncovering a deadly plot. The Greek Gods and the Wizarding world are moving closer, and a mysterious entity begins to unravel itself. Can the Greek Gods and the Wizarding world work together, or will they be destroyed forever?

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**A/N** Merry Christmas! Here's my gift to you: the start of a new series! You don't need to read TSBVL (a.k.a. the Stoll Brothers' Visit to London), though I recommend you do so that you won't get confused; it's the back-story under all that humour. But you can still follow the story without it, though. ;)

Currently, it's been around two years after TLO and on a slightly AU-ed version of HBP. The full explanation of its chronology is on my profile. Go there if you're confused. Well? What are you waiting for now? Read on!

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**Darkness Rising**

**Chapter One: The Last Request**

* * *

Professor Minerva McGonagall was having a rough day.

On this day was the funeral of the great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, her mentor, teacher and friend. She sat on the front row with Rufus Scrimgeour, who was still acting as if he cared, though Minerva ignored him completely. Tears ran down her cheeks freely as the Merpeople sang. This was the saddest day of her life.

Though her heart was heavy from the lost of her dearest friend, Minerva thought of her strange final meeting with Dumbledore.

It happened the day before he died, the day before Dumbledore went on that fateful voyage with Harry Potter, though Minerva was yet to get the full story from the boy wizard himself, despite the fact that Harry himself refused to talk about it.

On that day, she and Dumbledore were at the Headmaster's office, Minerva remembered. The phoenix Fawkes was grooming its beautiful red and gold plumage, making soft cooing noises as it plucked nonexistent bugs from its tail-feathers. At first, Minerva thought there was nothing wrong, until he started asking about centaurs.

"Centaurs?" the Transfiguration Professor had asked in disbelief. _What would Dumbledore want with centaurs? Or does he mean Firenze?_

Yet Dumbledore simply smiled that knowing smile, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "In time you'll know," he told her. Then the great wizard handed her a sealed envelope, telling her to open it when the time came.

Minerva had gotten more confused by the second. "When the time comes?" the witch echoed. "But when will that be?"

The scary part came when Dumbledore looked at her sadly. "You'll know," he said simply, and proceeded to talk about other trivial matters no matter how much she pestered him. Then the Headmaster dismissed her, claiming that he needed to meet Harry.

That was the last time Minerva had seen Albus Dumbledore alive.

Minerva truly didn't like being kept in the dark, especially in such an abrupt manner, but she trusted Dumbledore – she trusted him with her life – and she'd even give her life if he asked for it, which she knew he never would. She placed the incident at the back of her mind, carrying on with her daily duties, putting on a brave front, though she worried all the same.

That worry came to light after the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.

She was devastated more than ever. Harry refused to speak of what he and Dumbledore had searched for, or whether their search – whatever it was – had been successful. Minerva let him go, since Dumbledore had ordered him silent, and with the other Heads of Houses, discussed their former Headmaster's funeral. The subsequent arrival of the Ministry delegation was worse. At the end, she was left as the school's Acting Headmistress, a position that she vowed to uphold with the same dignity as her mentor, with some opposition from the Ministry though.

After that debacle, Minerva McGonagall was left alone in the Headmaster's office – no, _her_ office now – and utterly sick at heart. She opened the sealed envelope, knowing that this must have been what Dumbledore had meant, reading its contents with increasing concern.

_There must be a mistake_, Minerva had thought at once, though she knew that Dumbledore would not make such a mistake like this.

The letter, long and complicated, told of the Greek myths, demigods and a place called Camp Half-Blood, where an old acquaintance of Dumbledore's, an immortal centaur named Chiron, would take in Harry and his friends until Harry is of age. She would have to inform Ron and Hermione about this, though not Harry, since he already knew. That puzzled the old witch, though she shrugged it off. _A change of plans_, Dumbledore called it in his letter, though he did not elaborate. He stated something about the Dursleys being a bit 'indisposed,' which Minerva cared nothing about. Dumbledore even included an obscure method to contact these strange beings, which he advised Minerva to use while in the company of Harry and his friends.

_The arrangements had already been made_, Dumbledore informed her, and Minerva suspected that it had been for months. Dumbledore was not the type of person who would act so rashly.

The letter, resealed, was safely tucked away in her purse, now resting reassuringly on her lap. Scrimgeour was murmuring something that was supposed to sound consoling when white flames suddenly erupted around Dumbledore's body, heightening by the second. Minerva gasped, half-rising from her seat, when a white marble tomb then replaced it. Within it, she knew, was her mentor's final resting place, the last gift of his loyal phoenix Fawkes.

Minerva wiped a tear from her eye. Though her long-time friend was gone, it was time to move on. She had some matters to attend to.

**~oOo~**

Harry Potter sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, alone but for Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They spent the last hour grieving, the full reality of Dumbledore's departure truly upon them. Though his friends were not as close to the former Headmaster like Harry was, Hermione and Ron still mourned with him, supporting their friend in his time of need.

Months had passed since the incident in Diagon and Knockturn Alley, though Harry still thought of that day. Though he never had the reason to use it, Harry still had the Golden Drachma that Nico di Angelo had given to him. The coin hung from a ribbon on his neck under his shirt, which he frequently touched. The school year had been an interesting one, with Horace Slughorn as the new Potions Master and Severus Snape the D.A.D.A. professor at long last.

_Snape. _

The name still sent vibes through Harry, and he couldn't believe that Snape had murdered the Professor.

_I could have stopped him_, Harry thought. _If I had shown Dumbledore the book, instead of hiding it away, none of this would happened. Dumbledore would be here, and Snape in Azkaban, where he belongs. _

But his friends had told him over and over that it wasn't his fault. They wouldn't – couldn't have predicted that such a thing would happen. But Harry still blamed himself; there would always be that 'what if' in his mind.

"Come on," Ron said in a sudden, getting up. "We need to go. The train's gonna leave in a couple of hours, and we haven't packed."

Hermione scoffed. "You mean _you_ haven't packed. Harry and I have already sent our belongings up the Hogwarts Express. Right, Harry?"

Harry barely heard her. "Yeah… right."

Hermione's attempt to lighten the grim atmosphere fell to the drain. They sat in an awkward silence, barely saying a thing. Ron made a half-hearted excuse to gather his belongings, though both knew that the quietness was grating on his edges. Twenty long minutes later, Ron came down with his suitcases. Ron must have thrown all his stuff into the bag as half of his clothes were exploding out of the already bulging bag.

"Let's go," Harry then said, rising from his seat. Glancing at each other, Ron and Hermione followed after him, stopping at the door. Harry gripped the handles, appearing to hesitate.

Then seemingly of its own accord, the entrance opened by itself from the outside and the trio goggled at the person standing before them. "_Professor McGonagall_?" Harry managed, stammering at the word.

Minerva McGonagall smiled at them. "Good, you are still here. Thank goodness," she breathed. The old witch looked like she had just run a marathon.

"Professor, are you alright? Has something happened?" Hermione asked her favourite teacher.

Professor McGonagall shook off her student's questions. "I'm alright, Hermione. I had to shake off Rufus Scrimgeour a while back. He wanted to install another one of his underlings in Dumbledore's place again. But enough talk; go back in. I have some important things tell you," the old witch told them shooing them in.

"But what about our stuff?" Ron protested. "We're gonna miss the carriages."

"They can wait. I delayed the departure time. It seems that you're not the only ones who are running a little late."

As if to testify to her statement, a first-year Gryffindor student ran down from the dormitories, laden with heavy bags. "Sorry," the kid mumbled, barely noticing them in his haste to catch his ride home.

Ron Weasley stared at place where the kid was a mere second ago. "Blimey," he murmured. He hadn't noticed that there was anyone still up in the Boys' Dormitories, though he was glad that he wasn't the only one.

"That was unexpected," said Professor McGonagall, breaking the stunned silence. "Alas, where was I? Ronald, please take a seat. Harry, I think you can help me with this, it is all new to me as well."

"Me?" Harry Potter said. _Help you with what? Or does she mean…?_

His two friends looked at him. "Harry?" they both said. "What does she mean?" Hermione added.

Harry readied himself for the intense interrogation to come. "I'm not sure," he said, which was partly the truth. "But I think Professor McGonagall should explain it first. Um, Professor?"

Minerva McGonagall straightened up in her seat and looked at the two other teenagers in the room. "What do you know about the Greek Gods?" she asked them.

Ron looked utterly confused, as if he didn't understand what the term meant, while Hermione looked utterly surprised, and Harry was _not_ surprised that she answered first. "They're myths," Hermione said simply. "Stories used in the past to explain how the sun and the moon rose each day, or how the spring changes to summer. But Professor McGonagall, what does it have to do with us?"

"Good question, though I wish I have the answer. Harry, would you like to add anything? Ron?" Professor McGonagall looked at each boy, who both shrugged.

"I dunno," Ron admitted. "'Mione's the brains here, and I don't have a clue about Meek Mytho-whatever you call it."

"_Greek_ Mythology," Hermione corrected him. Then she looked at Professor McGonagall again. "Just what makes it so important to us now? Does it have anything to with defeating V-Vo-_Voldermort_?" the young witch stammered out the name.

Professor McGonagall looked very uneasy, and Harry couldn't tell if it was because of Hermione's usage of the name or the subject that she was going breach soon, which Harry strongly suspected what it was. Again, Harry felt guilty that he was leaving the old witch to reveal all that unbelievable stuff, but Harry couldn't bring himself to talk about that now.

"Dumbledore didn't tell me," Professor McGonagall said slowly. "But I think it must have some importance…"

"Professor Dumbledore has something to do with this?" Ron asked suddenly. "I get it now. Dumbledore said something to Harry, and you're telling us about it now. Harry, why didn't tell us about it earlier? Me and Hermione would have been totally fine with it."

Apparently, Harry and Professor McGonagall had reached the same ultimatum, since they both said the same thing at once. "The Greek Gods are real."

From the look on his face, Harry knew that they had lost Ron at that very moment. Hermione was another story. "That's… that's ridiculous," the young witch denied. "Is this some sort of joke? This isn't the time for that. The Greek myths are just… _myths_. Even muggle sciences had proven that they're just stories."

"But they're real. Very real," Harry told her, his internal conflict resolved. "You've met one yourself."

Hermione's mouth went open and close like a fish. Then she snapped out of it. "Are you alright, Harry? You've been looking ill lately. Do you want to… _talk_ to someone about it?"

"Remember that time in Diagon Alley last year?" Harry asked them. "That time when I spied on Draco Malfoy in Knockturn Alley?"

"Yes… you snuck away from us and got Ginny all worried. What about it?"

"Well… I lied about it."

"You what?" everybody said in unison and Harry winced.

_Here it goes…_

Harry told them the _real_ story of what happened during their visit to Diagon Alley, effectively bullet pointing the important bits. Harry watched as the look on Ron's face darkened as he proceeded with his tale, instantly regretting it. The witches stayed silent during the duration, and Harry knew that they were processing very bit of information in their computer-like minds.

"_You lied to us_…" Ron said quietly.

Harry had nothing to say to that. After all, it was the truth.

Hermione was the first to recover after that tense moment of silence. "So… you're saying that this Nico person and those boys Ginny befriended are _gods_…?"

"Half-bloods." Harry shook his head. "Um, they're called that too. They're demigods – I don't know. All I know is that they're half-god and half… human."

"Ju-Just stick with demigods, Harry. It's easier." Hermione was still having trouble believing in Harry's story. "Professor McGonagall, what do you know about this? Can this be… real?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head. For the first time, Harry noticed how old she looked, especially after Dumbledore's death. She used to look stronger than that. "I don't know, Miss Granger. I'm all new to this as you."

Hermione stood up and started pacing the Common Room like an anxious cat, rubbing her temples deliberately. Ron was still ominously silent. "Proof," Hermione suddenly said. "I need proof. Prove to me that the Greek Gods _do_ exist."

Harry was afraid that she would ask for that. "I don't…"

"I think I have it," said Professor McGonagall. The trio looked at her. "Professor Dumbledore did not explain about it much, but he talked about a way to magically contact someone who could explain this to you much better than I could."

"_To magically contact someone_?" Hermione echoed sceptically. "There are many methods to do that. Dumbledore has invented one, and Fred and George have their own, albeit one-way. How would that work?"

"Like this." To Harry's surprise, Professor McGonagall drew out a very familiar object from her purse: a Golden Drachma. Wordlessly, the old witch conjured a rainbow from her wand and uttered the very incantation Nico di Angelo taught him months ago, tossing the coin into the multicoloured spectrum. "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show me the centaur Chiron of Camp Half-Blood, New York."

Hermione gasped as the rainbow shimmered, forming into the image of a fatherly grown man's face. The man appeared to be drinking a cup of tea when the call came, and he calmly set it down once he noticed them.

"Ah, you must be Professor McGonagall. I have been expecting you for some time," the man in the image spoke. "My name is Chiron. I trust that your teacher has explained the basics to the children. Yes? Well, then, I better get started. We don't have a lot of time. Did you call collect?"

**~oOo~**

A few hours after their plane touched down in London, two heavily disguised demigods wandered into King's Cross Station, rubbing insults off each other. They were an odd-looking couple, though no one seemed to notice it. They had at least two scarves wrapped around their necks, and giant sunglasses that covered nearly half of their faces. One would think that they were insane to wear so much clothing in the early summer heat, but no one did; the Mist made sure of that.

"It's your fault that we got lost, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth Chase said to her boyfriend. "Men and their male pride. You can't even ask for directions."

Percy Jackson couldn't think of a smart comeback to that (surprisingly), and thus he said, "You made me ride on an airplane. We could have died!"

"Changing the subject? You are _such_ a Seaweed Brain." Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Lord Zeus specifically gave you permission to enter the sky and back. He even swore on the Styx," she muttered, the last part more to herself.

Percy groaned, remembering the moment. It was the scariest thing he had ever experienced. "Do we have to fly back? Can't we just take a ship?"

Annabeth looked at him apologetically. "We don't have the money, or the time. The plane is faster." Then as an afterthought, she added, "Sorry, Percy."

Percy groaned again. "Can you try knocking me out again? It's worth a try."

"The last time I tried, I nearly broke my wrist. No thanks."

"Thanks a lot, Wise Girl," Percy grumbled. _Invulnerability has its cons._

The son of Poseidon gazed at the teeming platform. Tons of British folk boarded into and out of trains. Between Platform Nine and Ten, there were several oddly dressed – more so than the demigods were – people mingling about, trying to look inconspicuous (it didn't work). Some were running straight at the barrier at full throttle, but for some reason, none of them crashed.

Those were the people Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase were searching for.

Not exactly _those_ people, but for a _certain_ group of people. 'An extraction mission,' Chiron had called it. Aside from their 'associates', only the senior counsellors, Chiron, and the gods knew about their quest. You'd think with the Greek Gods about, none would be hardly surprised to see witches and wizards flying about.

Nevertheless, be it known that their worlds were never meant to collide. Several stories from around the world had popped up about such incidences, some very well known. Those you think that have absolutely have no connection to either worlds were actually the aforementioned, such as _Cinderella_, though the _true_ account had no 'happily ever after.' The most famous of them all is the story of _Romeo and Juliet_, though that is another story.

The gods actually had a signed agreement not to intrude on the Wizarding world's affairs, and vice versa. Such occurrences, though rare, often prove dangerous and require much headache and paperwork, which neither side would like. However in recent times, only a handful of magical people know about the gods' existence and the Ministry of Magic had long since classified the Greek gods as ridiculous and senseless Muggle myths – a.k.a. silly Muggle stories.

What Annabeth and Percy were doing would be a direct violation of the treaty, but the gods were not _exactly_ good at keeping promises. Perseus Jackson himself was born because of a broken oath, and the son of Poseidon would be heftily displeased to learn of the aforementioned treaty, _if_ he had known about it.

He would be more affronted to know that it was only part of the bigger plan.

Now, Percy Jackson scanned the platform, looking for the three people they were supposed to pick up. Annabeth did the same beside him. Chiron said that they should be able to recognise the kids at once, as they too would be looking for them (hopefully), and Chiron had fortunately given them their descriptions. But the people so far had been running _in_ to the magical platform, while none appear to be coming _out_.

"Erm… Annabeth?" Percy asked nervously. "Just how long are we going to stand here waiting?"

Annabeth Chase looked at the giant clock behind them and shrugged. "Chiron didn't say," she admitted. "He told us to wait until the train comes."

"Which train?"

"Gods, don't you know how to use your brain? The magic train."

"You mean the one that arrives on the magic platform which we cannot see?"

Annabeth looked at her boyfriend. "Yes, that one."

Percy shrugged, until a disturbing thought came to him. He sweated. "Uh… Annabeth?" he said, his voice a little shaky.

"What now?"

"Does this mean that we have to wait all day until the train comes?"

_Leave it to Seaweed Brain to point that out. _

Annabeth started to get nervous. If they weren't attacked or killed by a hoard of monsters soon, they were bound to die from their combined ADHD.

**~oOo~**

Hermione Granger was in denial.

Here was an actual prominent character from the Greek myths – _the_ Chiron who had taught all of the Greek heroes of legend – talking to her, and Hermione could barely think. Such a thing was utterly implausible, but yet it was happening right in front of her. Ron was similarly affected, though on a lesser level than she was.

The pureblood wizard probably didn't understand what was going on. Hermione didn't know how much of the ancient Muggle lore was known to the Wizarding world, but it must be very little.

Harry was another story altogether; he was taking it all very calmly. Hermione still felt a bit of anger towards her best friend, but she understood his reasoning. Harry had a deep sense of loyalty to his friends, and Hermione knew he would never betray them willingly.

Though… she and Ron would still give him hell once they had the chance.

Chiron was talking about the Greek gods, of how they came to be and how they were still around. Apparently, the Greek gods had always been around at the heart of the Western Civilization. The Roman Empire, Egypt, London – which was, according to Chiron, the messiest time between the two cultures due to their extremely close proximity – and finally the United States of America. They often consorted with mortals, resulting in demigod children who were sent to a training camp in New York, which Chiron presided in. Hermione found it quite immoral that the gods would commit such adulterous deeds, but then realized that it was not any different from the tales she read about them.

According to Chiron, he and Dumbledore had been something like business associates. How they met was a long story. (It involved a half-blood, a rat-like monster, and two butterflies). In spite of the restrictions of the treaty, they still kept contact whenever the need arose, especially if it would concern both worlds. Chiron said that it was because of the latter that he had volunteered his services to Dumbledore, though he didn't specify why.

At first, Hermione was doubtful about Chiron, but gradually, she began to believe him. From the sound of it, the gods had nothing of interest to the Wizarding world much. They could get anything they wanted, though; they were _gods_ anyway.

But her logic demanded that she should remain sceptical of them, just in case she was wronged.

When Chiron told them of what Dumbledore wanted them to do, Hermione was mystified. Wasn't Harry supposed to search for You-Know-Who's remaining Horcruxes? Why does Dumbledore want them to do in a summer camp for Greek demigods? Play finger-painting? Despite all these questions running through her mind, Hermione kept her silence. No one, save for the three of them, were supposed to know about the Horcruxes; Professor McGonagall was still in the Common Room.

Besides, Hermione reassured herself, if they went to this camp, Chiron might tell them what Professor Dumbledore really wanted of them there.

_Key word: _If_._

Hermione was not going to trust them so easily.

"Now… children, Professor McGonagall, do you have any questions?" the man – no, _centaur_ – in the floating image asked.

Ron shook his head; his mouth had hung open during the entire duration of Chiron's long lecture. Professor McGonagall promptly issued a quick refusal, too astounded to speak. Hermione stayed mum, keeping her opinions to herself. All, but Harry Potter.

Harry leaned forward. "I got a question," the wizard said.

Chiron nodded. "Carry on…"

"What about Nico di Angelo, son of Hades? You avoided mentioning him during the entire time. What about him?"

The centaur looked stunned, as if he hadn't expected Harry to know who Nico was. Hermione saw the hesitation on Chiron's face. "I take it that you're Harry Potter, the boy Nico told me about?"

"Indeed, sir, I am."

"Why do want to know?"

"Well, Nico di Angelo is one of my friends and I haven't heard from him for quite a while. I just want to know how he is," Harry said sincerely.

Chiron visibly relaxed. "He's fine, as far as I know." At this point, the odd tingling sound played again and Chiron seemed to dig around his drawers again for another coin to throw. "Actually… we haven't heard from him in a while… quest… classified information, can't tell you… _Vlacas_!" he swore.

"What?" Harry said. At the same time, Hermione asked, "Quest?"

Chiron swore again. "No time. Go to King's Cross. Look for Percy and Annabe–wait! Lady Iris, please, five more–"

But before the centaur could say more, the connection dissolved and all the witches and wizards saw was empty air.

"Well… that was interesting…" Ron quipped.

_To be continued…_

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**A/N** Hehe, Chiron ran out of Golden Drachmas to pay Iris. The gods only know how much he paid for that one call anyway. I've got a lot to say, but I'll cut it short with this: Do you _seriously_ think that I, FallenAngelitz, will go easy on them? *poke* Do you _seriously_ think that I'll follow the norm? *poke* Haven't you learnt _that_ already? *poke, poke, poke*

That aside, each chapter would be at least this long and I'll be updating this fic weekly (dang… the first chapter of my OC fic is 5,000 words long, and barely half-way finished… o.O"). Reviews help. You guys are lucky here; you got a committed writer with a lot of free time. Well, gotta go! You know, I might even give you a New Year present…

* * *

To all new readers, welcome to the world of FallenAngelitz, where none can be fully expected

Next chapter: Departure from Hogwarts and…


	2. Chapter 2: Departure From Hogwarts And

**A/N **Lovely first chapter, wasn't it. Happy (belated) New Year, and here's the second!

You Know Who: I'm neither British nor American. I don't know any American sayings – I don't even know how to speak my country's slang. I just do what I can.

But before you start, think of how you would feel if you were in Ron or Hermione's position. It's only natural if you feel that way. However, beware: multiple perspective changes in this chapter. Try to keep up.

* * *

**Darkness Rising**

**Chapter Two: Departure From Hogwarts And… **

* * *

They attacked at full force once they had him cornered.

"I can't believe you kept this from us," Hermione Granger started as Ron Weasley bellowed, "Harry, I can't believe you _lied_ to us!"

Harry Potter backed off as much as the back of his seat allowed (which wasn't much), raising his hands almost in surrender. "I'm… sorry?" he managed.

"Sorry?" they both said. "We're supposed to _friends_," Ron added. "You git, friends don't lie to each other. Friends don't keep secrets from each other for an entire year."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, turning to the red-haired wizard. "Harry had a good reason not telling us – he was helping a friend…"

"You're _siding_ with him?" Ron said, incredulous.

"Ron, Harry's feeling guilty enough. Just look at him!" At that note, Hermione motioned a hand at the accused wizard.

Ron scrutinised his friend. "I see a guy who doesn't know the meaning of friendship."

Hermione looked like she was going to explode. "Argh! You… you are so _infuriating_!"

"Me? Infuriating? You're supposed to be in my side. Not his."

"You're acting stubborn. I bet on Madam Pomfrey's potions that Harry's feeling real guilty about this thing for an entire year," Hermione countered. Don't you know how that must have felt for him? It must have been horrible."

"Madam Pomfrey's potions," Ron echoed sardonically. "Was that supposed to be a threat? Well, I don't know what he went through, but he didn't need to go through it alone if he had told us about it."

"Ron, Hermione? I'm right here," Harry said, embarrassed that that they were talking so openly about him. Hermione barely glanced at him.

"Be quiet, Harry. I'm defending you."

Ron was fuming. "So I get it now. You choose him."

"What's this about choosing people?" Hermione argued, turning red. "I'm not choosing anyone. I'm helping him, just as we promised this morning. Have you forgotten, Ron? You said it yourself, 'We'll be there.' Are you chickening out on your promise this early?"

Ron backed off, looking away from Hermione's stern gaze; Hermione's words had struck home. Harry glanced back and forth between his friends' faces. If there was one thing that Harry hated on that day, it was the sight of his two best friends fighting. "_Guys_," he pleaded, hoping to get their attention.

After a while, Ron grumbled, "Fine."

Hermione and Harry shot him a confused look. "What did you say?"

"I said fine, I was a jerk. You're right, Hermione, as usual. I'm a selfish obstinate jerk."

"Don't be too hard yourself," Harry said quickly as Hermione gasped. "I'm the one who's being a total jerk here. I should have told you before."

"What's this about being a jerk?" someone asked, leaning in through the compartment's door. The trio turned at once. It was the food trolley lady.

Hermione broke through the tense shock. "It was nothing," she said sweetly, smiling sincerely at the elderly witch. "Harry and Ron were having an argument that's all."

The trolley witch looked surprised. "If that's so… would you like some treats?" she asked them. "I hear there's nothing better than a drink of pumpkin juice to lighten one's troubles."

Catching the looks on her friends' faces, Hermione nodded and said, "That would be nice. A glass for each of us?"

Once the lady with the food trolley was out of the way, Hermione locked their compartment's door. They groaned in unison. "That was close!" Hermione breathed. "By Merlin's beard, if she had caught us talking about the Horcruxes, what would we have done?"

"Yeah, what would we have done," Ron echoed dourly.

Another silence befell them. Too many things were happening at once. Harry had thought that they would have had time to think about what they would do once they started their search, but things were moving so quickly.

_What had changed?_ Harry wondered. _Why does Dumbledore want me to leave the country? He wanted me to search for the Horcruxes, didn't he? So what changed?_

As Harry pondered on the numerous possibilities, his mind dwelled upon what had happened on that day. First, Dumbledore's funeral and then Scrimegeour and the talk he had with his friends. Then came Professor McGonagall and Chiron's subsequent Iris-message. After that, they barely made it in time for their ride on the Hogwarts Express, and Harry still found it hard to believe all that had happened in a single day.

Then a sudden epiphany came to him.

_Could it be…_ Harry thought, disbelieving. _Could it be that Voldemort found something more important than the Horcruxes? Something related to the Greek Gods?_

His friends seemed to share his opinion unconsciously. "Speaking of the you-know-whats," Ron said after a while. "What d'you reckon Dumbledore want with those… people? They got something he wants us to find, I just know it."

Hermione looked at Harry, who was deep in thought.

"We'll go," the wizard affirmed moments later. "I think Ron might be on to something. Whatever Dumbledore wants, we'll get it. We'll go to the Half-Bloods' Camp."

"And we'll go with you, as always," Hermione added.

Ron agreed with her. "Yeah, let's find these Percy and Annabewait people."

And that was that.

**~oOo~**

While the trio were discussing their plans, the Order of the Phoenix were making their moves. Their members were gathered at 12 Grimmauld Place (they had yet to move into the Burrow), conversing quietly in the dining room.

There was a tense air among the witches and wizards assembled there, and many of them had attended Dumbledore's funeral in the morning, though some were absent due to their duties. Kingsley Shacklebolt was one of them – he couldn't afford to leave the Muggle Prime Minister unprotected for so long – and most of the Weasleys who were picking up Harry and his friends along with Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin.

"Is it true, Minerva?" whispered Elphias Doge, not wanting to rouse the wrath of Walburga Black's portrait. "It is true that they plan to attack today?"

Minerva McGonagall answered with a nod. "Yes, today, tomorrow or even the day after. Dumbledore strongly suspected that He Who Must Not Be Named would attack soon after his death."

"So soon?" Charlie Weasley asked, fresh from Romania. "But why? Shouldn't they be infiltrating the Ministry instead? Why cause such a fuss? The entire Wizarding world would unite against them if they invaded so openly."

"You got a sharp mind there, boy," Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody praised. "Very suspicious of them. You-Know-Who is acting very strangely these few days. Very strange. But Dumbledore's been wrong before, and then look at what happened. Worse so, we've been betrayed. I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore had been lied to by that slimy-haired traitor."

"Could eet be zat zey are getting desperate?" Fleur Delacour speculated, looking at each of the Order in turn. "Or maybe…"

"They want to capture the Ministry before Harry reaches seventeen so that Harry would be an easy catch?" Bill Weasley completed his fiancée's line of thought, seated by Fleur's side, his scars prominent on his face.

Many of the Order were rather uneasy at the notion, shifting anxiously in their chairs. "Maybe zat," Fleur said under her breath.

"Well, then," Mad-Eye said, standing up. "We'll have to be extra vigilant from now, wouldn't we? Constant vigilance!"

**~oOo~**

Percy Jackson's composure was wearing thin. Dangerously so.

"I can't take it anymore!" the son of Poseidon cried, raking at his messy hair. There was an almost feral look upon his sea green eyes, as if he was on the verge of madness.

Annabeth Chase appeared to be fairing almost as bad as her boyfriend, though she kept more hidden. "They'll be coming soon, Percy," she assured him. "It will not be long. Besides, it's only been a couple of hours since we arrived here."

Percy, who had pacing anxiously like an impatient cat, whirled on her suddenly. "A couple of hours, a couple of _days_. It's the same thing!"

Despite the circumstances, Annabeth had to roll her eyes. "A couple of days is a lot longer than a couple of hours."

"That's not what I meant!"

Annabeth groaned; Percy's whining was making _her_ more nervous. "Just hang, will you? Come on, you're the big damn Hero of Olympus. You can handle _waiting_, can't you?"

Percy's response was to stamp his feet repeatedly and utter inexplicable cuss words under his breath. His oaths were most colourful and explicit.

The demigods' odd behaviour could not be left unnoticed for long, even with the Mist's help; they made themselves far too ostentatious though. Their strange clothes only fuelled the mortals' doubts. Though it had many years since the London Bombings, security in the British public transport remained tight as ever. It wasn't long before a security officer caught wind of two rather suspicious-looking characters.

"Hey, you kids!" a uniformed man called out, hurriedly making his way toward them through a gang of chattering teenagers. "Stop right there!"

Percy and Annabeth looked at each other in panic.

"RUN!"

**~oOo~**

"It's not too late to pull out if you want," Harry whispered, already hidden underneath his Invisibility Cloak.

"No way, mate," Ron said. "We're sticking with you till the end. Move over."

One bad thing about growing up is getting bigger. In their younger years, the three of them could fit under Harry's Invisibility Cloak with room to spare. Nowadays, they could barely hide without exposing some part of their bodies. The trio bent together awkwardly, squishing their bodies as much as they could without making it too embarrassing.

They waited until most of the magical train's passengers had left, trailing behind a tired fourth-year on tiptoes. The trio held their breath as they walked, fearful to make a noise. If they messed up now, it would be over for them.

"_You'll have to slip away from your family, Ron,"_ Professor McGonagall's words reverberated at the back of their heads as she conveyed Dumbledore's last instructions. _"And others of the Order. Best that you remove yourselves before they pick you up on King's Cross. Dumbledore specifically does not want the Order to learn of the gods' existence yet."_

It irked at their consciences to abandon their loved-ones in such a way, but Hermione, Ron and Harry were determined to complete Dumbledore's quest of them, though they did leave a note for them. Hopefully, the Weasleys and the rest would understand, though Harry doubted they could communicate with them once they went into the fray.

Dodging some of the Ministry's Aurors, they crept past the train's conductor, stepping on each other's toes in their haste to get off the train. Hermione nearly lost her balance on their abrupt landing, but quick thinking on Ron's part saved her from a disastrous fall.

Grasping Ron's arm for support, Hermione mouthed, "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Hush," Harry advised. "We need to move, pronto."

Down the platform, Ron spotted his parents moving up the platform with Tonks, searching for him and his friends as they pushed their (mostly empty; they had transferred most of their belongings into a handbag Hermione thought to enchant earlier) trunks on a pair of trolleys. His sister Ginny was already with them, a worried frown on her face. Hermione's parents were nowhere to be scene, which Hermione was thankful for.

"I can't see them," Ginny was saying. "I can't see them. Where are they?"

"I don't know," Harry heard Tonks murmur. "Maybe they're at the other end of the platform."

Inwardly, Harry cringed. Again, he was abandoning Ginny without saying a word. To make things worse, he had broken up with her earlier in the morning. At the rate he was going, it was becoming a very bad habit of his.

_Ginny's gonna hate me by tomorrow_, Harry despaired.

Motioning toward the magic portal, the trio slowly made their way around the hustling environment, each witch and wizard eager to return to the safety of their homes in the wake of You-Know-Who's rise in power. More times than ever, they had to dodge some of their fellow classmates, and Hermione had to nonverbally Confund a panicky third-year who almost crashed onto them.

"After Dean and his parents cross," Ron whispered, gesturing at the dark-skinned wizard and muggle man and woman. Harry and Hermione nodded, understanding what he meant.

They moved behind the speedily moving family, each silently hoping that Dean would not notice their presence under the clamour of the platform. If he did notice them, he gave no sign, much to Harry's relief. The family of three crossed the portal and the trio followed right after.

"At last!" Ron uttered, moving up so abruptly that their legs showed up for a second. Hermione and Harry bonked him down. "Not now," they both hissed. "The _Muggles_," Hermione added.

Though they were out of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, they were still in a heavily populated area and Harry was pretty sure that the Muggles would be more than a little surprised if three teenagers popped out of thin air.

Grumbling a couple of expletives under his breath, Ron stuck by Harry and Hermione's sides as they tried to navigate the human crowd. "Urgh, I can't take it anymore," he moaned. "Just where are we gonna meet that Percy and Annabewait people?"

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. "I am very sure that her name is not '_Annabewait'_. It's probably Annabel or something. What sort of name is Annabewait anyway?"

"A Native American name?" Ron quipped, though he regretted it when the witch scowled. "Kidding."

"Not funny."

"Forget it. Just how are we gonna find those two, Harry? Are we going to stand on top of some bloody podium until they find us?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, though Ron already knew it.

"Well, that's just wonderful. What are they're going to do? Randomly run into us?" Ron said irritably.

One should not say such things when he knows that Greek Myths are true to the bone, especially the cruel, cruel Fates.

"Percy!" an oddly dressed girl cried out, unknowingly running right at the invisible trio. "For Zeus's sake, can't you run any faster?"

"I'm trying!" an equally strange boy shouted back. Behind him, a Muggle officer chased after them through the human tides, yelling at the two teenagers to stop.

"Try harder, and – ACK!"

Wide-eyed, the girl looked at the three _very visible_ individuals sprawled in front of her. At the same time, Hermione had raised her wand to cast a Confundus Charm, but in the collision, it was knocked out of her hand, lying on her feet. "Oh my gods," the girl gasped. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." Then a look of utter disbelief formed on her face. "You're… you're Harry, right? Harry Potter?"

Used to such reactions, Harry nodded immediately.

If it was possible, the girl looked more excited. "Thank the gods, we've been waiting for you forever! I'm…"

"_Annabeth_!" the guy – Percy, Harry remembered – called out. "We got a problem!"

Irritably, the girl called Annabeth turned. "What now?" she asked, but the scowl on her face disappeared when she saw the monstrous thing that had emerged behind the running boy. "Oh, _Styx_…" She grabbed the two closest to her – Harry and Ron – dragging them to their feet.

"Hey, who d'you think you are?" Ron shouted, pulling off her vice-like grip.

The girl looked at him straight in the eye. "Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. We need to get out here, fast."

**~oOo~**

Annabeth Chase was stronger than she looked, a fact firmly established when she held the sky more than three years ago. Of course, neither Harry nor Ron knew about this little bit of information, thus they were quite surprised when Annabeth was all but dragged them along in her haste to escape the reptilian monster suddenly chasing them. Percy Jackson and Hermione followed after them, hot on their trail.

"What the hell is that _thing_?" Ron shouted over the screaming mortals.

"A _Scythian dracanae_," Annabeth yelled. "Dragon-woman. Very bad news. Run faster!"

The daughter of Athena was more than flabbergasted to see such a monster running amok the British railway system, something that shouldn't be possible. _Maybe there __are__ monster families in Britain_, Annabeth thought, remembering a certain conversation she had with Chiron, which the centaur had explained was a complete and total lie due to the current circumstances at that time.

Hermione Granger panted beside the boy who looked just like Harry Potter. "Shouldn't we fight back? There are Muggles about; what if someone gets hurt?"

"Can't!" Percy said. "We need to get you to safety first, and your magic won't work against her. Besides, she's only after us," Percy added casually.

"Well that's just spiffing!" the bushy-haired girl said.

Percy tried not to moan. "Gods, you're just like Annabeth."

"Who? That blonde girl?"

"Yeah, just like Wise Girl."

Around them, mortals – and wizards and witches alike, convinced that Death Eaters were attacking – were running out of King's Cross Station in panic. Various trains halted in their tracks, their conductors shocked when dragon-women suddenly raced across the tracks. It seemed like an entire neighbourhood of monsters had rushed out of their nests, only to assault the five teenagers. The security guard who had chased the demigods ran back to his station in fright, yelling at his colleagues about demonic terrorists.

Percy, Annabeth, Harry, Hermione and Ron avoided the mortals/Muggles fleeing the scene, each unwilling to allow any incident that an innocent bystander would get hurt. Instead, they ran in the other direction, throwing anything they passed at the monsters chasing them. Abandoned small luggage, carts and the occasional jinx or two flew toward the hounding dragon-women to no avail, and the stunning spells didn't seem to work at all.

"They're boxing us in!" Annabeth called out.

"I can see that," Percy shouted back, still a little far back with Hermione, hounded by dragon-women. He had Riptide out in its sword form, slashing mercilessly at dracanae. Hermione seemed to have better luck than Harry and Ron, her spells actually driving the monsters back.

Annabeth released her grip on the two wizards, grabbing her knife to stab at a screaming dracanae. Harry and Ron drew their wands, casting any spell they could think of at the impervious dragon-women. Improvising, Ron sent a Hover Charm at particularly angry monster, which only managed to trip the dracanae.

_But it worked_, rejoiced Ron. _They can be harmed by spells._

"Harry!" he cried.

Harry pulled back as Annabeth dusted a dracanae who got too close to him, red light shooting from his wand in a fruitless attempt to stun her. "I saw," he called back, attempting to use the same spell. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" he shouted at a dracanae, who flew off her feet.

"Get away," Annabeth screamed at them. "Save yourselves. You can't fight these things!"

"Yeah, we _can_," Ron argued, then at a dracanae, "_Confringo_!"

The dracanae's clothes exploded into flames, but the dragon-woman herself remained unharmed. It only made her madder. The monster lunged at Ron, but a jet of silver light knocked it sideways.

Gingerly backing away from the now laughing monster, Ron shouted disbelievingly at Hermione, "The _Tickling_ _Charm_?"

Hermione smiled a bit, running toward him. "Turns out, laughter incapacitates anything, even monsters from ancient Greek Mythology."

"Stop flirting with each other," both Annabeth and Harry cried at them. "We need to get outta here," Annabeth repeated. "No, _you_ have to get outta here."

"You can't order us around," Harry said, casting another Hover Charm to trip a dracanae that Annabeth missed. Somehow, he had managed to grab a small celestial bronze scimitar from a fallen dracanae, but without any training whatsoever, it was no less than a clubbing weapon.

Annabeth swore in Ancient Greek. "You're as bad as Percy and Clarisse. Argh, fine, do as you wish – but don't get yourselves killed."

**~oOo~**

Percy Jackson had turned into a frenzied human fighting machine, slashing and hacking without restraint at the dragon-women. All around him, dracanae pounced at him, each wanting a piece of the powerful son of Poseidon. Their attacks bounced off his invulnerable skin, and Percy had the foresight to place a safeguard on his Achilles Heel. But despite all these, Percy knew that he would be eventually overwhelmed by their numbers alone; they were just so many.

He needed to get to Annabeth fast.

Percy wished that he was near water – he could easily pulverise them with a massive water attack – but he nowhere near water, not even a puddle. Oddly, his and Annabeth's assailants consisted only of Scythian dracanae, though Percy barely acknowledged the fact.

He only attacked, turning his attackers into dust with a single swipe of Riptide's blade, each time moving a few steps toward Annabeth.

Gods, when had he ever needed Annabeth this much?

Parrying a dracanae's spear, Percy ducked low to avoid a dracanae's swipe. At the edge of his periphery, he glimpsed Annabeth disintegrating two of her opponents at the same time, each exploding into golden dust. Jets of multi-coloured light streamed out of the wizards and witch's wands, though it looked more like a light display than actual help.

Percy grumbled something under his breath as five more snake-women swarmed him.

_Is it a good thing or a bad thing_, Percy wondered as he fought, _that I'm the only one being mobbed?_

Percy decided to figure that out at a later time, providing he was still alive then.

Cut, cut, and cut. No matter how powerful a sword is – even one such as Riptide – its only purpose is to cut. Snake-women exploded into dust, but more kept coming. Other than the Second Olympian War, Percy had never fought so hard. Some of the dracanae who had been fighting the others transferred their efforts to the son of Poseidon, seeing him as the bigger threat.

"Percy!" Annabeth cried out, just when Percy was thinking of her.

Percy couldn't resist a groan. "Geez, Wise Girl," he called. "A little help here?"

Annabeth shouted something to Harry, who did something funny with his wand a second later. Hermione and Ron joined him in some sort of make-do spell and bright light gathered at the tips of their wands. It got so bright that the combatants had stopped in their fighting, shielding their eyes instead.

"_RICTUSEMPRA MAXIMUS_!"

**~oOo~**

All about the Ministry of Magic, dark wizards and witches were gathering in its shadows, their presence magically concealed from the ordinary Ministry workers, most of which were maintenance wizards and minor officials. At the same time, their comrades also convened secretly about the Wizarding prison of Azkaban, arriving by boat and broom. The sky itself seemed to protest at their scheme and clouds eclipsed the afternoon sun. Rain fell, but those exposed simply cast weather spells against the sudden storm.

It was a simple plan: to strike at the very core of the Wizarding world first, when the fear of their Dark Lord is high at Dumbledore's defeat.

The world will tremble beneath their feet.

With their Dark Lord, the Knights of Walpurgis will rule the entire magical world.

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled a maleficent smile.

"ATTACK! STRIKE FOR OUR DREAD LORD!"

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N** A little late, but no harm done. I admit, I'm not very good at fight scenes – the lousy cliffie ending is attributed to a very tired author – but I hope it met my standards somewhat. Turns out, I'd be needing a bit more than a single week to finish each chapter, but quality equals the amount of effort done, right?

_Rictusempra Maximus _is a non-canonical spell, though _Rictusempra _itself is canon in the books. _Maximus _is Latin for maximum. What it does, you'll find out in the next chapter. Speaking of which, do any of you wonder why Percy and Annabeth are in disguise (I did keep referring to them as 'oddly dressed')? Hehe, its quite funny.

Some of you are asking when Nico's gonna appear in the story. Well, I can't tell you exactly when, but it will be sometime after this arc (meaning the extraction mission… now I'm just confusing you). Oh well, best I shut my mouth now.

Ah~ don't mind the horns on my head, it's supposed to be a halo… (lie)

Next chapter: Into the Lion's Den

* * *

Geddit? Departure from Hogwarts and into the Lion's Den? Okay, okay… lame pun.


End file.
